Invictus
by THEFIRSTWARDEN
Summary: After the Mage Rebellion in Kirkwall Ondine Caron, now First Warden, is forced to pick a side when Anders and Hawke seek refuge among the Grey Wardens.
1. Vigilance

This is an elaborate bit of fanfiction produced only for pleasure and never for profit featuring both Original characters created by me and non original characters who were created and are owned by Bioware and EA.

Prologue:

_In 9:30 the Dragon A young noble woman named Ysolde Cousland was rescued by a grey warden after a scheming Lord massacred her family. She under took the Joining and became a full fledged Grey Warden herself, only to suffer a crippling defeat against the Darkspawn at the battle of Ostagar. She set out with her fellow Grey Warden Alistair to unite the nation of Ferelden against a traitor and a horde of demonic Darkspawn. But this story you already know. After the Blight was over and the dust settled, the Grey Warden Ysolde married her lover Alistair Theirin and became Queen of Ferelden, having made a bargain with a powerful witch to save the lives of both Alistair and herself._

_In 9:31 the Dragon, the Wardens were given the Arling of Amaranthine, the former Arling of the now deceased Arl Howe, as a boon for their service to Ferelden and Ysolde, now called the Hero of Ferelden, was offered the position of Commander of the Grey._

_She declined and abdicated in favour of a young Grey Warden Mage from Orlais named Ondine Caron. Ondine had spent her youth serving as apprentice to First Warden Jacob at Weisshaupt and more recently had spent several years under the command of Senior Warden Riordan in Jader. She took the joining at 18 and had never seen the inside of a circle tower, having been under the protection of the Grey Wardens all her life. Ondine remained Warden-Commander of Ferelden for only a short time before First Warden Jacob succumbed to the taint and in his last will and testament named Ondine his successor and the new First Warden. She took a small compliment of her Silver Knights & Grey Wardens from Amaranthine and made the journey to Weisshaupt only to find another Grey Warden, Lars Endolun of Rivain, had claimed the mantle of First Warden for himself. After a terrible battle on the very steps of the Fortress of the Grey, Ondine slew Endolun & claimed her rightful place as First Warden & Lady of the Grey. _

_Now another battle brews after the fall of the Circle of Magi in Kirkwall and the mage rebellion spearheaded by a former Grey Warden Anders and the Champion of Kirkwall, a mage named Hawke. As all of Thedas is divided between mage and chantry, the Wardens will soon be forced to pick a side or be faced with War._

_**Invictus **_

_**Out of the night that covers me,**_

_**Black as the Pit from pole to pole,**_

_**I thank whatever gods may be **_

_**For my unconquerable soul.**_

_**In the fell clutch of circumstance**_

_**I have not winced nor cried aloud.**_

_**Under the bludgeonings of chance**_

_**My head is bloody, but unbowed.**_

_**Beyond this place of wrath and tears**_

_**Looms but the Horror of the shade,**_

_**And yet the menace of the years **_

_**Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.**_

_**It matters not how strait the gate,**_

_**How charged with punishments the scroll,**_

_**I am the master of my fate:**_

_**I am the captain of my soul.**_

_**William Ernest Henley.**_

**Vigilance**

Ondine had never expected that being First Warden would be boring. When she'd served as an apprentice of sorts to First Warden Jacob she'd seen only crisis. It seemed every day the world was falling apart and First Warden Jacob kept it all from crashing down with his tight lipped manner and iron fist. But now, as she sat on The Throne of the Grey she wondered if perhaps he was only putting on some elaborate show for her sake. Some days she would sit in the throne for hours without a single visit from her steward, but as she looked up to see him scurrying towards her she knew today was not one of those days.

"First Warden Ondine a group of travellers have come to the gate, requesting an audience. There is a Grey Warden among them, but he is not one of ours." Said Marius, her elderly elven steward.

"Are they citizens?" Ondine asked, rising from her seat. She feared she knew the answer already.

"No, my Lady, they carry no banner and wear no uniform." He replied, his brows furrowed in distress.

"Curious. Well let them pass, we are not so poorly manned that we fear a small band of travellers, are we?" She asked smirking.

The Steward only shook his head, "I'll send word at once, my lady." and with that he was gone.

Ondine brushed off her skirts as she waited, remembering how fearsome Jacob had looked when she'd been brought to him here. He'd stood with sword in hand, as though ready to put any man to death at a moments notice. Fearsome, strong and immovable, she'd always admired his confidence and she envied it more than ever now.

The heavy iron doors creaked open slowly as two guards pushed them with the full force of their bodies, letting the sharp cold air of the Anderfells break through the veil of heat from the fireplace.

A group of travellers walked hesitantly in behind them, their cloaks pulled up, the snow melting on their bodies. Their leader, a blonde haired man carrying a large staff, held out one hand and bowed his head in respect as he spoke "First Warden, I am-"

"Anders?" Ondine cut him off. Could that really be him? He seemed twenty years older, his blonde hair pulled back haphazardly, the stubble on his chin nearly a beard now. He was lithe and pale, his eyes almost seemed bruised with the dark lines beneath them. He even sounded like a different person. But this was Anders, there could be no denying it.

"Warden-Commander Ondine? What're you doing here? Where is First Warden Jacob?" Anders asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

"Dead going on three years." She said.

"Really? I suppose it was a little strange that he would send Nathaniel of all people to track me instead of someone under his command." He sneered.

"Track you?"

"Let's not pretend, Ondine. I know you've sent people to keep an eye on me." Anders said his brows furrowing.

"Senior Warden Nathaniel has been sent to the Free Marches to investigate a dwarven thaig, not to find you." She said.

"You're retracing our expedition? To what end?" He asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

They stood there, locked in defiance, neither willing to relent until finally the little Blonde-haired woman to his left spoke up "Would someone like to tell me what's going on here? I've not yet mastered mind reading." She said, her mouth in a little smirk.

"Forgive me. Warde- First Warden Ondine, I give you Nevela Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall." Anders said, gesturing to the woman.

So this was Hawke. Nathaniel had sent missives that mentioned her and of course her brother had often complained of her when he was sauced enough. She'd thought her some glowing idol of a woman by all the descriptions of travellers who'd encountered her, but instead she was faced with a slender girl with eyes too big and innocent for her voice. She was dressed simply in heavy velvet robes and leather leggings, a wool cloak practically wrapped around her delicate form. It was almost funny to think of her as champion of anything.

"Serah Hawke, I've seen your handiwork in the Vimmark Mountains. I'm impressed."

"Impressed is good." Hawke nodded.

"Your brother has also spoken of your skill."

"Also good." She said, though the smile had left her face.

"He's not with you?" Ondine asked.

"No, he went back to find his commander before joining us here."

"I see." Ondine eyed them suspiciously. Carver had not been given leave to visit his sister. He was a dedicated young man who by all accounts bore no love for her, yet he'd abandoned his post to help her without permission. This was very worrying. If Grey Wardens started abandoning their duties at a moments notice how long could she keep the order before they all started deserting?

"Have I done something to offend you First Warden Ondine?" Hawke asked after some time in silence.

"I'm just waiting to see if you burn down my fortress," She shot a look at Anders "I hear that's what you do now."

"I did what I had to. I will not apologize for that." He said, scowling. She didn't think she'd ever seen him scowl before. My but he had changed.

"That is not for me to say. But my gut says I cannot trust you Anders and I have half a mind to slap you in irons as it is."

"I... Understand." He nodded, his expression pained.

"So, if you haven't come to blow me up, why have you come?" Ondine asked.

"There is no where in Thedas for us to hide now. This is the only place I thought I might find shelter, at least for a time."

"You're a deserter. If we were in the army I might have had you hanged, if you were a Silver Knight, I might have you flogged. But you're a Warden and Wardens never waste anything valuable."

"I'm glad to hear that's still true."

"Don't be so glad, you'd be of value to me Tranquil as well."

"You wouldn't do that. You're a mage." He said, his anger rising visibly.

"I'm a Grey Warden." She corrected.

"But you're still a mage, right? That big black staff you're carrying isn't just for show, is it?" Hawke interjected.

Anders immediately took a step closer to her protectively, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Love." He whispered, shaking his head "Don't."

"No, please," Ondine waved her hand for Hawke to go on, intrigued by her nerve "Speak your mind."

"The way I see it even if you turn us away the Chantry will come after you. Even after they squish us under their holy boots they'll see you as a threat." Said Hawke

"And why is that?" Ondine asked, amused.

"You're a free mage without a phylactery commanding an army of tainted men across Thedas and you're the only other person in the known world with as many men with big pointy swords as them. They'll see you as an enemy simply because they have no hold on you."

"There are treaties, we have signed oaths." Ondine assured her.

"The only oath a templar remembers is the one he made to the Maker. They will kill every innocent man who defends you and they'll sleep easier having done so."

Ondine took a moment to chew on that.

"They may try." She said, not sure if she was trying to convince Hawke of herself.

"Rest assured they will. But we can help you fight them, if you let us stay. The templars fear us now, as much as a person with that much blind faith can fear anything, knowing we are here may give them pause. You say the Grey Wardens waste nothing valuable? Well we're a skilled band of fighters unmatched by any in the Free Marches and we would fight for you. You should think carefully before you throw us away."

Ondine thought on this. This woman wasn't wrong, she had been denied the role of first warden for her magic once before and nearly been defeated. If she could overtake Weisshaupt with only a few skilled wardens how long would it take an army of templars? Would the men even fight for her, if it came down to it? How many among them would ignore the word of the Divine for their commander? Either way, it seemed a battle would come for her, she could see Hawke wasn't going to leave without spilling a little blood and Anders she already knew to be a radical.

"All right, Hawke," She said finally "I'll offer you a deal, I'll let you and your companions stay here as long as you like if you give us Anders as collateral."

"What?" It was Anders and not Hawke who responded first, shocked and confused. Good, she thought, a little taste of his own medicine won't hurt him.

"You heard me. You are a deserter and I am obligated to make an example of you, otherwise what's stopping the rest of the wardens from running off?" She barked at him, her voice echoing through the frozen fortress walls.

"Sounds fair to me." Said one of Hawkes companions, a stern looking copper haired woman with a square jaw and a finely polished set of armor.

"How exactly will you make an example of him? I'd like him back in at least two pieces if you please." Said Hawke

"Hawke!" Anders exclaimed.

"What? You thought they'd just let you waltz back in here? Be thankful you are a Grey Warden, otherwise they'd have killed you already." Said the copper haired woman.

"He will be put to work under the command of Senior Warden Nathaniel until such a time as I see fit to release him. He will not be harmed by any within, but the work of the Grey Wardens is always dangerous, he may very well die serving this sentence." Ondine said, trying to sound as unwavering as First Warden Jacob always had.

"This is ridiculous! My life is devoted to the plight of the mages of Thedas, I'll not follow around Nathaniel Howe while he strokes his bow." Anders shouted.

"It is your decision, you stay and accept our terms, or you take your chances out there. Choose wisely, Grey Wardens rarely give second chances."


	2. Debt

**Debt**

The warden who led them through the halls said nothing as they walked, only grunting when they walked too slowly. Anders had expected this even before arriving, Wardens never did take too kindly to deserters. But he took comfort in the fact that these people at least were judging him by his actions and not his magic. The warden stopped suddenly and Anders nearly flew over the trunk he was carrying

"Here, you'll share this room. Address any concerns to the steward." He said gruffly, his moustache doing a funny dance as he moved his upper lip. "Welcome to Weisshaupt." He muttered as he walked away.

"What a lovely greeting party they have here!" Exclaimed Hawke with mock sincerity.

Anders laughed and opened the door, moving to one side to let Hawke walk through ahead of him.

Then something occurred to him.

He dropped the trunk and grabbed Hawke by the hand tugging her back outside the door. Then in one fluid motion he swung an arm under her knees and swept her up in his arms. She let out a little cry of amusement and surprise and he kissed her before carrying her over the threshold.

"Home sweet Home!" He shouted and she shushed him even as she laughed.

"Well, it's not the gnawed noble tavern, but it'll do."

"I've certainly been held in dirtier prisons." He said darkly, gently placing Hawke down on the bed.

She made a little tsking noise and grabbed his chin. "Oh, you poor thing."

He pushed her hand away playfully and dragged the trunk through the door, closing it behind him.

"Should I unpack our things?" Hawke asked carefully, gesturing to the trunk. The look in her eyes said she was afraid to broach the subject at all.

"You mean will I accept Ondine's deal?"

Hawke nodded. He noticed she was playing with her fingernails again, biting the ends and pulling off any extra skin around the cuticle as she sometimes did, making a bloody mess of her hands. He let out a sigh as he collapsed next to her.

"I don't really have a choice, do I? Still... it doesn't feel right. I set the fire and now all over Thedas mages are fighting and dying because of me."

"And you want to fight with them."

"I only wanted to be free when I was young. But now that I am... it's not enough. I can't live in a world where my fellows are caged while I do as I please. I should be out there with them, on the front lines."

"You can be, I'll stand with you if that's what you choose."

"No. That's not an option for either of us any more. It's one thing to die for freedom, to meet death by choice, fighting for something I believe in. But I can't ask that of you."

"It's my fight too, Anders."

"It's not just about us any more, we have to be more careful-"

"WOULD YOU TWO KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE?" Shouted a muffled voice on the other side of the wall, startling them.

"PLUG YOUR EARS!" He shouted back without thinking. Hawke batted him on the shoulder and he shrugged. "Sorry, it was an impulse. People used to do that at the circle all the time. It's just talk I'm sure they won't-"

Then there came three heavy knocks on the door, proving him wrong mid-sentence

"WHY DON'T YOU COME OUT HERE AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE?" Asked the voice, now seething outside the door.

_Shit._

"I can't take you anywhere." Hawke sighed shaking her head.

Anders stood up and brushed off his coat. He took a deep breath and opened the door but was surprised to find the person he expected to be at eye level was quite a bit shorter than her knock had led him to believe. An elven woman with blonde hair and a facial tattoo on her forehead and chin stood in the doorway, arms folded with one foot tapping in irritation.

"Listen human," she said, her voice sharp with rage "I don't know how your people behaved in Kirkwall, but here we-"

"Velanna?" He asked, his voice as sounding as shocked as he felt.

She stopped and looked at him more closely, squinting her eyes. "Anders?"

Recognition washed over her features and they softened, only slightly, into a little smile.

"Good to see you again, Velanna." He said, at a loss.

"I'm sure it is. Who is your guest?" She asked, looking past him at Hawke, who offered a crooked little smile and a wave of her hand.

"This is Hawke, she's-"

"The Champion of Kirkwall, I've read the reports." Velanna leaned past Anders again "I am Senior Warden Velanna."

"Senior Warden?"

"Yes. I command a unit of my own men now, so do the others from Amaranthine."

"Even Oghren?"

"Ondine left him back in Amaranthine when we took ship to the Anderfells. He is Commander of the Grey now."

Anders was incredulous "Oghren... Commander of the Grey?"

Velanna nodded "It was hard for any of us to believe, can you imagine him holding court in Amaranthine?" She said, smiling a little.

Without warning Velanna grabbed at his waist and he flinched. She cocked her head to the side and snatched up his arm, pulling at the skin on his hands. He pulled them away, confused.

"Anders is ill. He needs more food." Velanna explained to Hawke, plainly.

"I'm right here." He said

"Barely. You're about to slip through the floorboards and vanish in the crypts." She joked, though her voice remained humourless.

She stood there poking and pinching at Anders for a little while until she was satisfied with her analysis, then she looked up at him and crossed her arms again. "I suppose you're here about the lyrium."

Lyrium?

"What Lyrium?" Anders asked out loud and Velanna looked puzzled for a moment, until she figured it out.

"Dread Wolf take treacherous tongue." She muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. "I am not at liberty to divulge any information my commander has not already given." She said, dryly repeating something she'd clearly had to recite often.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"No. I am not at liberty to divulge any-"

"All right, all right, I get it. You can't tell me. I'm surprised at the change in you Velanna, blindly following the orders of a 'shem'" He taunted her. Velanna had always been the worst at keeping secrets, Ondine had joked that the only thing more predictable than her silent outrage was her compulsion to spill her guts accidentally.

Velanna scowled at him "I am not blindly following! Ondine is my commander, I am sworn to her service." She said pointing a finger in his face. She turned her head to the side and her expression suddenly changed "You're bating me. You think I'm so foolish I would fall for such an obvious trick?"

"I did, yes." He admitted

"Well you can just forget it, I hope that thaig turns your brains to mush-"

"A thaig? So we're going in the Deep Roads."

Velanna's hand flew up to clap her mouth shut. She swore in Elven and took off down the hall, the door to her room flying shut with a loud thud behind her.

"Well she was... nice." Hawke said weakly as Anders shut the door.

"If you think that was bad you should have met her in Amaranthine, she was the most sour-faced hateful little bundle of robes I've ever met."

"She's Dalish I take it?"

"Yes, she was kicked out of her clan. We found her in the Wending Wood picking off merchants. Lovely woman."

"She doesn't seem that bad, a little on the angry side." Hawke said, smiling that little smile.

"She's calmed down a bit. I can't say I've missed her, but she is the only other person who hates the chantry and the circle as much as I do."

"Another apostate revolutionary." Hawke sighed.

"Hush, now Love. Let's go to bed." He said, before blowing out the candles.

...

Anders rocketed awake at the sound of pounding at the door. The rooms in the barracks had no windows, so there was no way to tell what time it was, but Anders could have sworn he'd only just fallen asleep a moment before. After the second hard knock, Anders grudgingly rose, holding the wool quilt around him like a cape as he shuffled towards the door.

The door opened with a sigh and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light of the torches in the hall. There stood Nathaniel, soaked from head to toe, his hair hanging lifelessly, his skin wet with beaded snow. "Anders." He said gruffly, his equivalent of a greeting.

"What time is it?" Anders yawned.

"The sun has not yet risen. I'll give you an hour to dress, you may wash if you like. I'll meet you and the others in the throne room. Oh, and before I forget, these are for you." He said, handing Anders a bundle of cloth before walking briskly away.

"Anders?" Hawke called, rubbing her eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Love." He cooed, shutting the door.

He let the blanket drop and summoned a block of ice in the basin, then warmed it into water with his hands. He took the scrub brush and little block of soap and set to work cleaning himself without a tub, something he hadn't done since he'd lived in his clinic in Darktown.

"Are you leaving?" Ondine asked.

"I'm... I'm not sure." He said. He dried himself with a spare blanket that sat on the chest of drawers and picked up the bundle of grey and blue cloth Nathaniel had given him. He could tell what they were without looking too closely.

"What have you got there?"Hawke asked, eyeing the bundle "A present?"

"They're Grey Warden robes. I expect they want me to wear them, they're a lot more strict here than they were in Ferelden."

He held the robes up to look at them and cringed. They were... small. He'd certainly thinned out since they'd fled Kirkwall, his jacket barely fit him now. These robes would definitely draw attention to that.

"I could come with you." She said hesitantly as he pulled on the leather leggings of his new uniform.

"It's not safe." He said, trying to sound final.

"Nothing in my life ever is, it's never stopped me before." She argued.

"Hawke-"

"I'm a fighter, Anders, you can't expect me to sit back and watch you risk your life for us."

"I'm not risking my life, I'm paying the price of my crimes."

"I can't sit here and wait for you. I'm not that kind of woman."

"We have more than ourselves to think about."

That gave her pause and she looked away, her expression sour. "Fine. Go. Be safe."

Anders buckled the half-jacket over the cloth jerkin and sighed, slipping out of the room before she could convince him to stay.

...

Nathaniel was still wet with melted snow when he made his way into his chambers. When he'd arrived at Weisshaupt years ago Ondine had awarded him the room of the Seneschal adjoining hers, something which had warranted more than a few sour looks from the other Wardens already stationed at the Fortress. Favouritism, they'd said. They hadn't exactly been wrong.

Still, he had a hard time resenting the boon on cold mornings like this one, when he was able to undress and wash in his own copper tub, the stewards already having warmed the water by the hearth.

He was so eager to be out of his wet jerkin he almost didn't see Ondine leaning against his bed.

"Nathaniel." She almost whispered.

He stopped dead in his tracks, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. She wore only a thin blue robe, her long black hair wild and flowing down her shoulders. Honeyed eyes peering up at him through thick black lashes.

"Commander." He replied, swallowing hard.

"Did you receive my missive?" She asked, taking a step towards him.

He nodded "I've already been to see him. The others are waiting in the Throne room. Are you joining us?" He asked.

"No. I have to speak with Hawke."

"Do you think you can convince her?"

"You know her better than I."

She took another step towards him, her fingers unconsciously playing with a pesky curl that refused to lay flat no matter how much she fussed with it. He shook his head and drew his eyes back up to hers.

"Only barely." He finally answered "She's honourable, though she does have a smart mouth on her. I believe if pressed, she'll do the right thing. It'll be harder to convince Anders."

"What about the others?"

"They will do as Hawke does, even the Pirate and the Slave would follow her blindly." He assured her. That woman had fire, there was no denying it.

Ondine nodded, uncrossing her arms. "Did you miss me?" She whispered, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes.

Maker _yes_.

"I did." He said, trying not to sound to obvious. She crossed the room in two long strides and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him, his arms desperately rubbing her back, trying to touch her everywhere at once. He practically growled as he hoisted her up over his shoulder and carried her to the bed.

His mission could wait another hour.


	3. Memento

Authors Notes: So this is the last of the short opening chapters leading into the bigger story. I realize these have been very Anders-central, with the exception of the smaller scenes through the POV of Ondine and Nathaniel respectively. The next chapter will be more focused on Ondine and Hawke and will be about double the length of these early chapters.

You can also find me on DeviantArt under the username luux-lisbon

**Memento**

Anders had spent most of his childhood in his grandfathers cabin at the top of Mount Skadi hiding from the Chantry. When he'd begun to show evidence of magic his mother brought Anders to her fathers old cabin where she knew the templars would never think to look for him. Every few days she would climb the mountain to bring him food and clean clothes and take the dirty ones to the river to wash.

She brought him books she stole from the chantry in the Village and when she could get away long enough she would tell him stories of the great heroes of The Anders and the Men of the Grey. But sometimes she would not come for several nights at a time and he would sit shivering beneath his blankets staring out at the white nothingness of the snowy sky.

He lived in constant fear. He feared the mountain winds that howled in the night like angry ghosts and the wolves who would sniff the ground every few days, but he feared nothing more than the Tower. He did not know the word apostate then, or understand why anyone would want to cage him for his gifts, but he knew enough to fear that place most of all.

"You have a great gift, little bird." His mother would whisper to him as she rocked him to sleep in her arms "You could heal the world if you wanted."

He remained there hidden by the mountain for six years until one day, when he was thirteen, he spotted three figures climbing the mountain toward him. The first, though wrapped in pelts and a doeskin coat was unmistakably his oldest brother Doxin. The two who followed him he did not recognize, though they bore weapons and wore silver plate armour that gleamed in the sun.

_Templars_, he realized. He'd never met a templar in person, even as a child his mother had never brought him to the Chantry where they guarded the Revered Mother, but he'd seen drawings in the stolen Holy Books he'd read. The templars in those drawings had been strong and fearsome to behold, but these men were fat in their faces, their chins shaven and their eyes unkind as they forced Doxin up the path by knife-point. He should have run, he should have hidden, but he was frozen there, wide-eyed and afraid.

The three men stopped outside the cabin and Doxin turned his back to the window to face the other two.

"You see? It's only an old cabin. There is no one here." He assured them. His voice was gruff and annoyed.

"We shall see. Open the door." Said one the templar who bared his longsword at Doxin.

"I don't have the key." His brother replied. "No one's used this cabin in twenty years."

"Then we'll break down the door." Insisted the second templar.

"There is nothing here! This cabin has been unused since the Blessed Age!" Doxin insisted. He was trying to stall them, to allow Anders to escape but as much as he willed them to his feet would not move.

The second templar approached the door, and threw all his weight into it. The door was old but made of oak and try as he may the man could not force it open. After a few minutes of this the first templar rolled his eyes and pushed the second aside. "Fool." He muttered.

But he'd turned his back on Doxin and before he knew what was happening Doxin had drawn his twin blades and flung one at the back of the first templars head, nailing him to the door with a sickening crack.

The second templar roared in anger and drew his Great sword. Doxin stood crouched, a third blade already drawn from his boot. The templar charged at him, swinging his blade in a wide arc but Doxin ducked under it and before the man could swing again Doxin grabbed him by the back of his hair and slit his throat. The wounded templar fell to his knees, blood bubbling in his mouth as he coughed and gasped, then finally dropped dead in the snow. Doxin spat on him and wiped his blade off on his furs before knocking in the door.

"Yngve, open the door." He said softly, calling Anders by his true name.

Anders pulled open the door and ran away from it as fast as he could manage. His brother had killed two men. He'd done it to protect him, but he had still killed them and he could kill him too if he wanted.

Doxin read the look on his brothers face and dropped his daggers "I'm not going to harm you, little bird." He cooed.

Anders was still afraid but he managed to stand up straight and take a few steps closer to his brother.

"Dagrun and Eric are dead, you must go." Doxin said with sad eyes.

His Brothers were dead... for him. He started to weep uncontrollably and his brother knelt down and held him close. He'd always remembered Doxin being hard and cold as the mountains he'd been raised on, but now he wished he could know him better. He wished he could have been his little brother for longer.

"M-Mother?" Anders stuttered, still sobbing.

"Mother is gone, little bird, you must fly before the templars find you." His brother said, as he wiped his eyes. He stood up, as if remembering himself and Anders did the same.

"You're not coming?" He asked.

"No. I have to take care of those that remain, the templars will kill us all when they see what I've done here." Doxin told him. He removed his long fur cloak and wrapped it around Anders' shoulders, then placed three gold coins in his palm.

Anders looked around for anything he might need and a silk cushion his mother had embroidered for him caught his eye. He placed it and the coins in a wool blanket and tied the ends together, so he could carry it.

He looked up at his brother one last time, trying to memorize his face.

"Run." His brother whispered.

And he did. He didn't stop running until he ran out of breath halfway down the mountain, his tears freezing on his cheeks. Of course he didn't make it very far, it wasn't long before the templars found him stealing bread in a neighbouring village and put him on a ship to Ferelden.

Now here he was almost twenty years later hiding in the Anderfells like he was a boy once more, only now instead of a wood cabin he hid in a fortress and instead of his mother it was his commander who concealed him. For the hundredth time he wondered if any mage was ever truly free.

"Anders!" Nathaniel snapped, breaking his chain of thought and pulling him back into the present. "Have you been listening to a word I've said?" He asked.

"He's probably thinking up the words to his next manifesto," Carver joked as he sharpened his blade.

They were all gathered in the Throne room. Nathaniel stood barking orders while Anders and two other Wardens he didn't recognize stood around him. The only exception was Carver who knelt nearby tending to his massive blade with his whetstone. _So many jokes_, Anders thought to himself.

"It's early yet." Anders pointed out "I'm half-asleep."

"We've only just arrived from Kirkwall and we're wide-awake." Carver argued.

"Enough squabbling." Nathaniel scolded. He turned to one of the Wardens Anders didn't know, a woman with red hair and a longsword and shield. "Where are Eyvindr and Sanna?" He asked her

"They have been sent away to Antiva, Senior Warden, by the First Warden herself."

"So we are only five?"

"I believe so Senior Warden. We can wake Lethan and Armand if it please you."

"No, we'll loose the cover of night." Nathaniel sighed "I suppose we'll have to make due."

Nathaniel eyed the second unknown warden "Marcus, can you scout the path ahead?" He asked

Marcus nodded "I do not know the mountains as well as some, but I can move quickly and quietly if I must."

"That will do. Leave ahead of us and head west until you come upon a cave in the mountains, then report back to me."

"There are many caves in these mountains, Senior Warden."

"You will know this one when you see it." He said simply.

The man nodded & made for the heavy iron doors.

"The rest of you will move with me. If we make good time we may beat the sun over the mountains and keep clear of the wolves." Nathaniel pointed to Anders " If this man tries to sneak away or elude you, if you see him wander off or fall too far behind you have my permission to tie him up and drag him behind you by his ankles."

Anders shot Nathaniel an angry look, and Nathaniel grinned in amusement.

"Move out!"

Anders had forgotten how bitterly cold Northern Thedas could be. Their journey from the Free Marches had been by ship, during which Anders had been confined to the Crews Quarters by Aveline who looked at him as if she expected him to jump ship at any moment. But now he was out in the open, the wind whipping his face and the frost freezing his fingers and all his fond memories of playing in the snow with his brothers as a boy vanished.

"How far is this cave?" He shouted over whistling of the wind.

"Tired already, robe?" Carver mocked.

"I thought you were under Stroud's command, Carver." Said Anders.

"I was."Carver hesitated. "I've been reassigned." He said.

"So they're punishing you for helping us?"

Carver looked over his shoulder at anders and shot him a warning look

"No one is punishing me. First Warden Ondine requested my assistance at Weisshaupt. Here I am."

"Right, it's very routine for the First Warden herself to send for an initiate from another country." Anders said, sarcastically.

"You two are like little girls fighting over a doll." Nathaniel scolded.

"Even little girls don't bicker this much." Said the red haired warrior and Nathaniel laughed.

"You're right Svanhild, little girls are more disciplined." He said.

After that they travelled in silence and though the climb was difficult Anders kept pace with the Wardens, so as to avoid being strung up and pulled through the snow.

Despite the total darkness Nathaniel refused to light a torch. He didn't say why but Anders knew, the Anderfells were home to all manner of abomination and beast who would be drawn to a flame, the most common of which were the White Stalkers. The White Stalkers were said to be demon wolves who prowled the mountain side looking for unwary travellers but most southerners believed these beasts to be merely stories used to keep foreigners from mining the mountains.

However Anders had seen the White Stalkers as a boy outside his grandfathers cabin and knew them to be worthy of caution. He'd almost mistaken them for horses at first, but then he'd seen their long white fur and burning red eyes and he'd extinguished his lantern in fear. He'd been sure they were going to eat him, he'd even heard one sniffing outside the door, but when he'd finally worked up the courage to peek out the window the White Stalkers were gone.

He spotted someone off in the distance and as it drew closer, he recognized it to be Marcus, the grew warden Nathaniel had sent to scout the path ahead.

"Any luck?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes, Senior Warden, a Deep roads entrance only an hour away, at most." said Marcus.

"Did you run into any trouble?"

"No. There are Darkspawn at the entrance, but they did not sense me. Only..." Marcus looked troubled

"Yes?" Nathaniel barked, impatiently.

"I spotted two Genlocks, a Hurlock Alpha and a few others. It's very strange to say, but I think they were... waiting, Senior Warden. One of them even looks like an Elf."

Anders tugged Nathaniel's arm to pull him aside "The Deep Roads? You never said anything about the Deep Roads."

"We're Grey Wardens, where did you think we were going?" Nathaniel asked.

"You said a cave. Ondine said I was to help you, not take the Calling."

"Get a hold of yourself." Nathaniel said, sternly "No one is taking the Calling. We're meeting a messenger."

"In the Deep Roads? Is this about the Architect." Anders asked.

"You'll find out soon enough."


	4. Bargains

_a/n: With regards to information on the Anderfells, as you most likely know the Anderfells, Weisshaupt and the First Warden are not the topic of great discussion in any of the Books or Games, so everything aside from the name of the Fortress I have fabricated here. I imagine the Anderfells being a lot like Skyrim from the Elder Scrolls Series or The Wall from A Song Of Ice And Fire, very cold and hard and inhospitable. The title of High King is something snatched right out of Skyrim, in a kind of homage to the game, like High King Torygg (the High King who Ulfric Stormcloak shouts to death before the events of the game) many people believe Harthgaar Ironborn to be weak and merely a puppet of the Grey Wardens (much like Ulfric believed Torygg was a puppet of the Empire)_

_This unspoken dependence on the Grey Wardens to govern was mentioned I believe in a Codex entry from Dragon Age 2, so it's not entirely fabricated, however now that Ondine is First Warden I think she's doing some serious housecleaning. Also one of the lines Anders says is a direct quote from a character in Dragon Age: Origins, because it's one of the lines that really stuck with me when I was writing that particular scene. I'll shut up now. _

_I lied, one more thing, the finished full colour version of the cover for this fanfiction can be found at my deviantart,www . luux-lisbon. Deviantart . com (remove the spaces)_

**Bargains **

Hawke had been trying to sleep for hours, it seemed. The room was cold and the bed felt empty no matter how many times she tried to get comfortable. She missed her dog. She missed her bed.

She even sometimes missed sharing a room with her brother, though he smelled of sweat and blood and he never stopped turning over, she still missed knowing he was safe, or as safe as that shack in Lowtown ever could be.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Just a minute." She called, and rose to throw on some clothes.

When she was dressed she opened the door to find an elderly elven man peering up at her.

"Good morning, my lady. I am Marius, Head Steward of Weisshaupt." He said.

"Pleased to meet you, Marius." She said, trying to sound genuine. Hawke had always found it hard to make people believe she was being serious, given her tendency to make light of every situation. Sometimes she pulled it off.

"I've been instructed to extend an invitation for you to break fast with the First Warden. Your companions have already made their way to the Dinning Hall." He held out a frail little arm "If you'll just follow me please."

She took his arm and allowed him to lead her down the long hall that connected all the rooms of the barracks, though it felt odd for someone she'd never met to be so close. The two of them walked arm in arm in silence for a while, which Hawke found a bit uncomfortable though Marius didn't seem to mind. They came to the end of the corridor and two guards opened the heavy doors to the Great Hall for them.

"The First Warden sent her best man to escort me then? Quite the honour." She blurted, fumbling for a topic.

Marius nodded.

"The Lady of the Grey does not usually entertain visitors, she very rarely has the time." He said

"Must be a busy job, having so many men under her." Said Hawke, feeling a little smirk creep up on her.

The steward laughed "My Lady is a hard woman, forged in the fires of battle, I can't imagine many men could impress her enough to win her heart." He waved the hand Hawke wasn't holding "I am too familiar. Forgive me."

"I like a man who speaks his mind."She said

"You and My Lady have that in common, I may not have survived long under anyone else's command."

"I think most of my companions would say the same." She said as they arrived at a second set of heavy oak doors. Two more guards pushed them open to let them pass.

"Ah, Hawke, there you are." Called Aveline.

Her companions were all seated at a long oak table in the middle of the room, First Warden Ondine sat at the head of the table at the other end of the room. On the left sat Fenris, Isabella and Varric, while on the right side sat Aveline, her husband Donnic and Merrill. Marius led her gently to her seat at the end of the table, facing Ondine, then left through a side door on the far side of the room, presumably into the kitchens.

"First Warden Ondine, you're spoiling my friends." Hawke said looking hungrily at the food laid out before her.

"Hardly, we only had bread and some black-burned bacon, but it's fresh." Ondine replied, a little apologetically.

"Well it's not rats on skewers in the hold of Isabella's ship but I suppose it'll just have to do." Hawke sighed, aware of that little smile returning.

"We didn't eat rats, did we? Was that what the grey meat was?" Asked Merrill, oblivious as always.

"Don't worry yourself kitten, it was only horse meat." Isabella assured her.

"Oh, that's all right then." Merrill nodded.

"Thank you for hosting us First Warden Ondine." Said Aveline.

"It was my pleasure, the Champion of Kirkwall is a famed hero, what kind of leader would I be if I turned away help when it was offered."

"You're orlesian aren't you? Ondine Caron is a very Orlesian name." Isabella asked, out of the blue.

"I was born in Orlais, yes." Ondine nodded.

"You don't sound Orlesian." Isabella said.

"Thank you." Ondine said.

"You take that as a compliment?" Asked Aveline.

"When I arrived at Weisshaupt one of the first things First Warden Jacob told me to do was to 'tone down' my accent. He said that I could call myself a Grey Warden until the cows came home but as soon as I opened my mouth all anyone would see was a little Orlesian girl playing dress-up."

"Sounds like a pleasant fellow." Aveline said sarcastically.

"The people who teach us the most do not always use the kindest of words."

"That's... very true."

"You are called Aveline, correct? That's a very Orlesian name as well." Ondine pointed out.

"My father was a Chevalier, but I always lived in Ferelden." Said Aveline.

"Are you named for Ser Aveline, then?" Ondine asked.

"Yes." Aveline grumbled, annoyed at the mention of the Knight.

"You're lucky, I was named after my fat Aunt Ondine."

Aveline laughed "I suppose there are worse namesakes."

"Careful Donnic, looks like our big girls got herself a crush." Teased Isabella.

Aveline's face went red in embarrassment "Shut up Whore."

"Well, this keep is just the loveliest isn't?" Hawke asked quickly changing the subject.

"There's no frozen fortress in the mountains more hospitable in five kingdoms, surely." Laughed Varric.

"It's not as glamorous as in the stories, but it's held against dragon fire, and armies of Darkspawn." Said Ondine, shrugging.

"I heard you were met with some resistance when you came to Weisshaupt to become First Warden." Said Hawke.

"When I came to the Fortress there were some who... denied me my right, yes. A man named Lars Endolun led them. I think he was a templar from Rivain, recruited into the Grey Wardens. Because I was a Mage he said I had no right to hold dominion over the Wardens. He refused to let me enter the Keep. I was lucky, he was manning the fortress with only a skeleton crew and most of the men refused to fight me, in the end we managed to defeat him. But it's never a victory to kill another warden, I only wish it hadn't come to violence." She explained.

She was being modest, of course. The way the men on Isabella's ship told the tale she was only fifty men against a hundred, in a castle designed survive attacks by the legions of the blight. Any way you spun it, it was impressive.

The rest of breakfast was quiet, a little small talk about the weather, some questions about the Wardens and the keep, a few cheeky comments from Isabella. But Ondine was mostly quiet, looking over her cup at Hawke often, to size her up Hawke guessed. When everyone had cleaned their plates they all thanked Ondine for the food and left their seats. As Hawke rose to go Ondine stood and came to stand beside her.

"Walk with me, will you?" She asked.

"Certainly your... what do I call you? My Lady isn't right, but Your Grace is for kings, isn't it?"

"Ondine is fine."

"Ondine it is then."

They left through a side door on the far side of the room, across from the one Marius had walked through. It led to a little stone hallway that in the dark seemed to go on forever. Ondine summoned a little ball of glowing light that floated a few steps ahead of them as they walked.

"What do you want Hawke?" She asked abruptly.

"What do I want?" Hawke repeated, not sure she'd understood the question.

"You and Anders, what is it you need?"

"Safety, for now."

"That's the curious thing isn't it, why would a man who started a war want peace without resolution?"

"We can't fight a war with so few."

"You were only a few in Kirkwall."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at, Ondine." Hawke felt a little claustrophobic suddenly, the winding hallway felt tighter, constricting.

"I know Anders, he's not the sort of man who would willingly be captured, he'd rather die than be a prisoner and he's only become more radical over the years. I can't imagine he would give up his cause, even for you pretty as you are, and I can't see him being deterred by numbers alone. So what changed? What happened between Kirkwall and here to change this man so drastically?"

She was clever, Hawke could admit that much about First Warden Ondine.

"It's not for me to say." Hawke said, because she could think of no other reply.

"Stubborn." Ondine shook her head. "But I understand why you don't trust me. Perhaps I should offer a secret of my own first?"

"I can't tell you what I do not know." Hawke lied.

"Then call this a gift." Ondine stopped at another small door, this one however had runes carved into the wood. She removed a little silver key from a hidden pocket in her robes and turned it in the lock. The door swung open without being pushed and Ondine stepped through. Curious, Hawke followed behind but as soon as she stepped through the door it slammed shut with the same inexplicable force, startling her. She had no choice but to stick with Ondine now.

They walked in silence down a long set of narrow steps that spiralled downward sharply. As they passed the torches hanging on the walls, they instantly caught flame. _Magic_, Hawke thought to herself. She could see her breath freeze in the light of the torches, the lower they descended. Hawke was shivering by the time they reached the bottom steps.

Ondine turned around and saw Hawke shaking, then placed a glowing hand on Hawke's chest, filling her with warmth.

"Thank you." She said.

"I rarely bring others here, I forget to place the enchantment from time to time." Ondine said, apologetically.

This room was very different from the simple stone walls and high vaulted ceilings of the rest of the Keep. Each wall was finely painted with a different depiction of a great battle, and they were all lit by the eerie glow of green magic that emanated from five rectangular boxes sitting in the middle of the room. Hawke could feel them humming ever so slightly, each one decorated differently, some with pictures of dragons painted on the sides, others only had words written on them in some foreign language she didn't recognize. They looked like they were made of glass, but she couldn't see through the thick layer of ice that covered them.

"What is this place?" Asked Hawke.

"The Hall of the Undying. A place known only to a few and none outside the Order."

"Is it a crypt?"

"Of sorts. These are the coffins of legends. Martyrs who gave their lives to end the blights, First Wardens who lived their lives in service to the Order, Heroes of Great skill who fought bravely and died too soon. The First Warden chooses and the bodies are brought here to be preserved."

"I thought all Grey Wardens who lived long enough went into the Deep Roads to take the Calling."

"Most do. But those who die in great battles, or who served the order in some great way are honoured here. They are in-cased in Green Lyrium coffins and sent here, where they can be looked upon in moments of doubt." Said Ondine, coming to stand behind the coffin on the far left.

"Forgive me, but I've never heard of Green Lyrium." Hawke said. It did explain the humming, she supposed, only Lyrium could make a sound you felt in your bones like that. Holding Lyrium in your hands you felt as though you were holding pure magic, pure power, few other substances could do that to a man.

"We are the only people in Thedas who possess it. Some time after the first blight we found a fallen dwarven thaig covered in Green Lyrium. Though it had been sacked by the Darkspawn some fifty years earlier the bodies of the Dwarves were perfectly intact.

"There were signs of battle but we found no Darkspawn, not even their bodies, anywhere the green Lyrium touched. We sent wardens to the Shaperates, we searched the Dwarven histories but we found no mention of Green Lyrium. The only clue we found was a letter pulled from the hands of a skeleton in a tunnel not far from the first Thaig mentioning something called The One. It's been thousands of years and still we have nothing. We have found no use for the Lyrium except to preserve the bodies of our heroes. We can't forge it into weapons, because it's poisonous to the touch and we cannot let it leave the Order for further study because its rarity makes it too valuable to thieves. My predecessor, First Warden Jacob, believed the Green Lyrium was some kind of Dwarven Magic, some last ditch effort to save the Thaig from the Darkspawn. He was obsessed with it in his later years, in the end it's what killed him."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hawke asked, puzzled.

Ondine looked up at her

"Because I need your help." She said, her voice earnest "The only thing we've seen that's even close to this Green Lyrium is the Red Lyrium you found on your expedition and no one but you and your friend Varric have touched it without going mad."

Ah, so that was it. This had never been about Anders or his debt. She should have realized right away, in the end it was always about that bloody expedition. Always.

"What would you do with the Red Lyrium once you had it? You couldn't use it, you'd go mad." Hawke said.

"You needn't worry yourself." Ondine's tone was unyielding.

"The last time someone got their hands on Red Lyrium she ripped apart a city with her madness. I need to know that won't happen again."

"I can promise you nothing. Only that we know more about the dangers of this than you can imagine."

Doubtful, she thought.

"And if I say no?"

"Then I will do what I must for my Order." Ondine drew a little dagger from her belt "No matter what the cost."

….

Nathaniel always expected trouble, it was something that had served him well as a scout in the Free Marches. Some had called it paranoia, some called it a sixth sense but whatever you called it there was no denying that when he felt trouble brewing, it nearly always was.

As he approached the mountain where he'd agreed to meet the emissary, he felt certain something was wrong, something other than the Darkspawn waiting for them by the entrance to the Deep Roads. The closer they got the harder it became to soothe his nerves, but he pushed himself.

_This is the plan_, he told himself,_ these are your allies_.

It was the elven ghoul Marcus had mentioned who first saw their approach. He recognized her as Seranni, Velanna's sister. The years certainly hadn't been kind to the woman, her body covered in the black spots of the Darkspawn plague, the skin of her face sunken and meatless, the few clumps of hair that clung to her bruised scalp had gone white and brittle. He thought of Adria, a woman from his childhood who'd suffered a similar fate and he felt sadness touch his heart, but he locked it away in the back of his mind.

"Grey Wardens, you have come." She said, her voice sounding as lifeless as she looked.

"Emissary." He said, barely able to keep his tone even. The smell of these monsters was wretched, their veins thick with the tainted black ichor that called to him and warned him of trouble.

"The Architect sends his regards."

"Does he send anything else?" Nathaniel asked sharply.

"Only these." She reached into a ratty leather purse that she'd tied to her belt and pulled out several worn scrolls yellow with age. She held the scrolls out to him.

"What are these?" Nathaniel asked, quickly snatching the papers away from her rotting hands. Poor girl, it wasn't her fault she was so unsettling.

"They are for your Queen Warden. They are for her eyes only." She said.

"Understood. Is there anything else." He asked.

"The Architect says he feels the old ones stirring. He says to remain vigilant."

"The Old ones? That cannot be, it's barely been a decade since the last blight."

"Not the Old Gods. Something older. Something forged from the Magic of Half-Men. He says an ill wind blows this way."

"'_An ill wind blows this way_' It's just cryptic nonsense, I can do it too: 'The sun grows dark, but lo! Here comes the dawn!'" Anders cut in.

"Quiet." Nathaniel hissed at him.

He looked back at Seranni but she was looking past him her eyes wide in surprise. He turned quickly to see what had drawn her attention and his breath caught in his throat. Three massive white wolves descended the mountains, sniffing the ground as they went, their eyes red and glowing their snouts brown with old blood.

"White Stalkers." He heard Anders whisper.

There was no time to run, so Nathaniel reached for his bow. _Nock the arrow, draw, release_, he repeated to himself, the way his grandfather had taught him. His arrow flew towards the largest one, hitting its target within an inch. The animals reared back in surprise and anger, more than enough time to reach for three more arrows. _Nock the arrow, draw, release. _

Svanhild let out a battle cry as she charged for the Stalkers, Carver only a step behind her, his greatsword drawn. Beside him Marcus loaded his crossbow and fired. Svanhild managed to stab one of them through the heart as it pounced on her, killing it, but no sooner than she'd slain the beast did another one swat her into a large boulder, stunning her.

Anders was quick to heal her, saying blessings under his breath and holding a hand out toward her. She glowed with magic as she rose to her feet, renewed. She held up her shield arm to guard her as she charged a second time.

Carver swung his sword in a wide arc slicing one on the nose just as the second bit down on his calf. He cried out and Nathaniel loosed another arrow at the creature, to draw its attention .

_Nock the arrow, draw, release._

The arrow caught the Stalker in the throat and it flailed as it struggled to breathe before finally collapsing.

Only one was left now, the biggest of the three. The beast roared at them, looking more lion than wolf as it bound past the two warriors towards Nathaniel, Anders and Marcus.

_Clever animal_, Nathaniel thought as he leapt out of its path. It turned on him, snarling and snapping its jaws as it stood over him. He looked into its mad red eyes and allowed himself no fear. _Do it_, he thought,_ end it_.

Then there were flames. The Stalker howled in pain as the fired licked its way across its body. Nathaniel felt the glow of them, the heat of them. _The Void_, he told himself, _this beast is taking me to the Void._

…

When Anders arrived at the gates of Weisshaupt he had a hard time explaining why Senior Warden Nathaniel was slung over Carvers' shoulder like a drunken wretch. The fire had been the only answer, the White Stalker was too close to Nathaniel for an arrow or a sword blow to deter it. He reasoned he could heal the burns but he could not grow anyone a new head. Nathaniel had fainted from the pain as the creature died from its wounds, and Anders had rushed over to heal him. Though fully recovered, the man would be too weak to make the climb back to the fortress unless carried, so Anders had let him sleep.

The Guard at the gate, a Silver Knight and not a Warden, was weary of Anders. Doubtless he'd heard the story of the chantry and all his escape attempts from the others in Amaranthine. He let them pass however when he saw the angry look on Svanhild's face and the blood drying in Carver's hair. No Knight no matter how skilled relished the thought of going up against a seasoned Grey Warden.

Ondine rushed out the massive front doors as they climbed the steps. She wasn't wearing her armour, but a blue satin dress with grey fur trim. He couldn't remember if he'd ever seen her in a real dress. She looked like a proper little lady.

"Nathaniel!" She cried as she ran down the steps, the train of her gown trailing behind her in the snow. The elderly elven steward who'd met them at the gates the day before followed behind, as quickly as his old bones would allow him.

"He's fine, he's just unconscious, he needs rest." Anders assured her.

Ondine barely even acknowledged she'd heard him as she rushed over to Carver, who stood Nathaniel's limp body up as much as he could.

"Give him to me." She commanded, her voice harder than he'd ever heard it, and Carver obeyed instantly. She pulled Nathaniel's arm over her shoulder and carried him inside, leaning his body against hers.

"My Lady worries for the safety of all her men, even as she holds court with the High King. Truly inspiring." Marius said, loudly, so that the men stationed on the steps might hear.

_All her men my ass_, thought Anders. He said nothing, climbing the steps to the Great Hall in silence. Once inside he stayed well away from the Throne, where the High King of the Anderfells waited with twenty of his royal guard for Ondine to return.

In the old days being High King of the Anderfells meant you were the strongest man of the royal line. They held tourneys to decide who would be king, it was an event a man could talk about for the rest of his life. But Harthgaar Ironborn was the only man of his line in the time of his ascension, and though he was weak he was the only man eligible for the position of High King. Now Harthgaar was old and wrinkled and his three wicked sons awaited his death like hungry animals with watering mouths. Anders feared the kind of High King any of these boys would become.

He slunk past the High King and his guards into the Barracks, getting cold looks from those he passed. He came to the door of his room, ready to collapse on his bed from exhaustion, but when he opened the door he found the room was full of Hawke's companions. Merrill and Varric sat on the bed on either side of Hawke while the rest stood in a circle in front of her. They didn't notice the door creek open.

"We should never have come here, we should have gone to Alamar instead." Said Aveline

"There's nothing in Alamar but fire-haired giants." Isabella argued, swirling the wine in her cup before drinking it

"Those fire-haired giants are the best archers in known Thedas and they have defended their lands and families against the likes of you and yours for as long as anyone can remember, you ought to show them respect." Aveline's tone was forceful.

"They hold no allegiance to anyone, why would they help me?" Asked Hawke.

"That's not true, Alamar is under the protection and rule of King Alistair and the Warden Queen."

Isabella spat up her drink as she giggled into it.

"Good luck telling them that."

"Shut up, whore."

"What are you lot plotting?" Anders finally asked. His voice was rough from shouting over the snow and he was surprised at how much it hurt to speak.

They all stopped and turned around to look at him. Hawke's expression was dark as she met his eyes. He'd only seen her that serious a few times; after the expedition, after her mother had passed and after the destruction of the chantry. He felt a chill creep up his spine seeing it now.

"I have something to tell you."


End file.
